


Stockholm in Reverse

by astragazer



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Porn, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon Universe, Crimes & Criminals, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, How Do I Tag, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inspired by Killing Stalking, Kidnapping, Lima Syndrome, Mindfuck, Miya Atsumu Needs a Hug, Murder Mystery, Oral Sex, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Psychology, Romance, Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Thriller, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Yandere, killing stalking but it's haikyuu cause atsumu looks like sangwoo, overprotective miya atsumu, song: if i killed someone for you, yandere miya atsumu cause he looks like sangwoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-25 23:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astragazer/pseuds/astragazer
Summary: ---❝𝙒𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪?❞»»--⍟--««All you ever wanted was to start a new life in a small town in Hyogo Prefecture, away from your drunkard and abusive mother.But you never thought you would be taken captive by a psychopathic murderer.And now, Miya Atsumu had fallen for you.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING : This story contains graphic depiction of violence, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of suicide and rape. This story contains dark themes and mature contents.
> 
> Read at your own discretion.

* * *

_It had gone dark, the sky outside is now smudge in black and heavy clouds hover above, the moon kept hidden behind the clouds. The small town of Inari is eerily quiet during the night, so quiet it became the mute witness to many crimes being committed during midnight hours._

_You felt the cold metal around your wrist, your arms tied up on the headboard. Your eyelids felt heavy, red and sore from crying for too long. What was left with your wails were the little hiccups that escaped your lips as you sniffed. Your cheeks felt cold from the tears that had dried down. You tugged down your arm but the metal painfully dug around your wrist that you knew had gone red by now. It might leave a nasty bruise but you could care less about it._   
  


_You just wanted to leave. Leave and never come back from this house, from this town. Not here, not in Tokyo, not anywhere. You just wanted to disappear._   
  


_You really have nowhere else to go. The thought that kept invading your mind for a while now. Where will you go if you managed to escape?_   
  


_"Maybe death is the only escape," you whispered, your voice hoarse and you started to cough, the pain coursing down your throat as you closed your eyes tightly and you gulped._   
  


_Then the door opened. You kept your eyes shut as you heard footsteps. You wanted to turn around, you don't want to face him, but you couldn't. You felt the bed dipped down as he sat on the edge to your side, then you felt his hand caress your cheek._   
  


_You shudder at the touch. Not from the electricity that someone would feel if your lover touch you but from fear that someone would feel to a captor. You flinched when you felt his palm, his thumb caressing the traitor tear that had fallen from your eyes._   
  


_"You're crying again," he said as tears continued to fall, betraying you as he kept wiping them._

  
_You finally opened your eyes. And you saw him, his face that you found really handsome the first time you met him. The dyed blonde hair that suit him, his hair styled in an undercut that made him all the more dashing. His smile that you had always found admirable. And his kind touch._   
  


_Oh how you wished it would have stayed that way._   
  


_"Atsumu," you whispered his name, but not so lovingly as you did before, so many times before. Now every time you utter his name, it usually held fear and you were crying. Like now, and Atsumu hated it._   
  


_"Please..." You trailed off, your voice cracking down as you hiccupped. "Please, just let me go."_   
  


_Atsumu leaned in, putting his hand on your side to support himself as he planted a kiss atop your forehead. You might have had hundreds of butterflies in your belly when he first did that to you. But now you felt fear more than anything. Atsumu leaned out, but still too close to you._   
  


_"You know I can't do that, right?" He said, his hand going up to you chin. "I can't just let you go." His thumb caressing your bottom lip and your heart started to beat faster. Not from anticipation but from unease._   
  


_"Do you love me, Y/N?"_   
  


_You nodded, you kept nodding your head while tears continued to betray you as they kept falling down your face and you shut your eyes closed again when you noticed Atsumu leaning in. You thought he was going to kiss you, but he leaned in close to you ear instead._   
  


_You can feel his breath tickling down you neck as he whispered._

_"So, Y/N," he said. "Would you love me more, if I killed someone for you?"_   
  


_A few months ago, if you knew you would end up in this situation, you would have stayed with your mother, no matter how many times she hurt and abused you. At least you have someone who can help you, someone whom you can turn to after getting beat by your mother._   
  


_If you knew, you wouldn't have left home. You wouldn't have gone far away, to a small town in Hyogo Prefecture hundreds of miles away from Tokyo. If only you knew, but you didn't. There's no way you would have known._   
  


_Miya Atsumu._

_There's no way you would have known that he is this kind of person. Maybe you shouldn't have trusted him. Maybe you shouldn't have bumped into him that day. Maybe you shouldn't have talked to him._   
  


_If things happen for a reason, you were dying to know the reason why you got in this situation. Or maybe you would choose to die first before you know the reason._   
  


_All you ever wanted was to start a new life in a small town in Hyogo Prefecture, away from your drunkard and abusive mother._   
  


_But you never thought you would be taken captive by a psychopathic murderer._   
  


_And now, Miya Atsumu had fallen for you._   
  


_If you knew – but there's no way you would have known. A few months ago, there's no way you would have known._

* * *

**-A few months prior-**

**-Present-**

You looked out the window, the glass has been hazy from the rain outside. You don't particularly like the rain, but sometimes you wish it would just rain forever. Somehow the rain drowns out your sadness, knowing that the heavens are crying as well. But with the thundering roar and the lightning striking at the distance, you thought maybe the heavens weren't mourning but unleashing its wrath.  
  


"And you are all familiar with the term Stockholm Syndrome, right?"  
  


The voice of the professor was what pulled you out of your trance, averting your gaze from the window, you looked ahead at the professor who is discussing her lesson. The students were listening intently, perhaps because the topic was quite interesting.  
  


"It occurs when a victim or a hostage start to trust their captors. Although at present the Syndrome hasn't been recognized as a psychological diagnosis, it still attempts to explain the symptoms that appeared in some individuals who were once held captive."  
  


Somehow you started to hear the muffled noises around, drifting and drifting until all you can hear is the voice of your professor. Your hands started sprawling down words, jotting down notes as your eyes kept fixated on your professor.  
  


"Now, how about the inverse of Stockholm Syndrome? In which the captor starts to develop sympathy, trust and affection towards their victims. Can anyone tell me the exact name of the Syndrome?"  
  


You heard your name being called. You just realized you had put your hand up to answer as the professor looked at you.  
  


"Yes, Miss L/n,"  
  


"It's called Lima Syndrome," you answered but the professor seem like she's expecting more so you cleared your throat. "The name originated from the 1996 Japanese embassy hostage crisis in Lima, Peru, where the hostage-takers started to get sympathetic towards the hostages."  
  


"Exactly!" The professor said, nodding her head as she turned back to face the students and started discussing about the Syndrome.  
  


You looked down on your notes, spinning your ballpoint pen around your fingers. Although you have read a few things about it, you still doubt if something like that would be plausible enough. In the end, the victim is still the victim no matter how much they ended up trusting the captors, the captor is still the captor.  
  


"A good example of both syndromes in literature is the famous Beauty and the Beast, in which the Beast, who is the captor, started to develop affection towards his victim. While the victim reciprocate such affection in the end."  
  


But those are mere fairy tales, you thought. Fair tales can't happen in real life. A captor being affectionate towards its victim. If that were the case, then your mother should have had stopped abusing you long ago. Since you have a sort of bond from the beginning, a bond thicker than water.  
  


You didn't bother listening to the rest of the lesson. Soon after, the lecture ended and everyone exited the hall, you went out last though as you headed out of the lecture hall, what greeted you was a crowded corridor. You walk through the students, bumping some along the way. You bit your tongue to prevent yourself from hissing, since some of your bruises were new and only starting to form. You felt like a small pressure can be as painful as a blow.  
  


"Ah, I survived," you said as you stepped outside the building, away from the crowded claustrophobic hallway.  
  


You headed to the cafeteria, the nearest one in your college department. Where you often eat and keep to herself. You really don't mind though, since you will be graduating soon. One more year.  
  


You made your way to the corner of the cafeteria, a tray in hand as you put it down on the table together with your bag. You started eating, though you noticed your sleeve started going up. Your eyes averted to your wrist and you put your hand down as you tugged your sleeve lower.  
  


"Disgusting," you muttered. You don't need anyone saying it, since you always say that to all the bruises and scars. You really don't like it. At least you're glad it's raining. So people wouldn't think that you're wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. It's not even summer anymore.  
  


After lunch, you headed to another lecture and then another. Until it was time to go back home. Sometimes you wish your lectures wouldn't end, so you would have more time in the University and less at home.  
  


The streets of Tokyo became busier once the night falls. Wards like Shinjuku, Shibuya and Sumida were very beautiful at night. But the ward you are heading to is never like that. Somewhere in between those lit wards, more like an outskirt, was where you live.  
  


After stepping out of the bus, you clutched your bag around your shoulder and proceeded to the street leading to the small apartment down the alley. It was dark, saved from some lamppost. The alleys were narrow, there are some old shops here and there. You can smell the familiar and awful nicotine as you passed by a tattoo shop, hearing the occasional wolf whistle as you passed by. You had learned to ignore it.  
  


You hated it here. So much that you hope you would just disappear.  
  


"And they say Tokyo is the best City in the world," you muttered, walking down the alley. "Surely they haven't seen this side."  
  


You hated the back alley in particular. No one knew what you will encounter there. Once you bumped into a drunk man who almost did some indecent things to you had it not been for your stepdad who came just in time to call the cops.  
  


"Alright Y/n," you said as you stood in front of the entrance to the back alley. "Run,"  
  


You clutched your bag tightly as you made a mad dash through the back alley. At least you didn't bump into anyone. But you saw some things that a minor shouldn't really see.  
  


"What the hell was that?" You asked, looking behind. "Those people...are really doing it there?"  
  


You shook your head to get rid of the thought and to burn what you heard into the depths of your mind. You continued to walk towards the apartment building. Tokyo has a really high cost of living, you're thankful you can still have this small apartment.  
  


Punching the passcode, you opened the door and untied your shoelaces. Although you may not like it here, you still have some manners.  
  


"I'm home," you said, announcing yourself.  
  


"Ah, Y/n-chan, welcome home. How's school?"  
  


It was your stepdad who greeted you back with a smile. Though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He took your bag and put it to the side as you proceeded inside.  
  


"It's fine, uncle. We learned some interesting things."  
  


"That's great. I made some soba, do you want to eat?"  
  


You knew it was rare. Stepfathers or stepmothers were always portrayed in novels as the one who make the main character's life miserable. But in reality, at least to you, your stepdad was the kindest person in the world. He treats you like his own daughter. And you knew he loves your mother. After what your biological father did. You didn't let that thought invade your mind as you looked back at your stepdad.  
  


"Sure, uncle," you said. "Your soba is the best in the world!"  
  


"The best in the world huh?"  
  


The voice of your mother made you flinch. "Tsk, go wash the dishes after yer done eating and take the trash out, will ya?"  
  


"I'll do it," your stepdad said, whispering to you as he winked. "Go and eat. It's a cold night, the broth will warm your stomach."  
  


"Thanks uncle,"  
  


As you made your way to the kitchen, you heard your mom saying some snarky remarks. You didn't really bother talking back, you just silently went to kitchen and sat there, eating the soba your stepdad made.  
  


"Ah, when are you going to leave this house?" Your mom asked as she made her to the kitchen too. "Tch, yer just a pain. Ya good for nothing."  
  


She sat across you, and the fact that she's there made it hard for you to swallow your food.  
  


"Why don't you just go quit College and work as a host–"  
  


You were cut off when you slammed your hand on the table, finishing the broth, you stood up and walked to the sink to put the bowl. But before you can do that, you felt a hand grabbing your hair, yanking you back as the bowl fell on the floor, shattering it to hundreds of pieces and you stepped on some shards and hissed.  
  


"What're you slamming your hand for huh? And look, you broke the bowl you bitch."  
  


You tried to pry her hand off your hair but your mom gripped it tightly, so tight you felt like she's going to pull your hair from your scalp. The blood from your foot started to trickle down on the floor. Thankfully, your stepdad came and took her mom away from you.  
  


"Fine! I'm going to leave this goddamn house! You're never going to see me again!"  
  


You stormed out of the house, barefoot and with shards protruding from you foot. You stopped and sat by the stairs, pulling the shards off your foot one by one. It was painful, but at least the physical pain would be over. But the emotional one you felt will be there to invade you forever.  
  


You came back to the apartment later that night, when you were sure your mom had passed out from being too drunk. You had sneak in and went to your room. Taking your bag full of clothes. You have it ready for a year now, when it would become too much and you've made up your mind to leave.  
  


Just as you made your way out of your room, you bumped into someone. At first you thought it was your mom. But it was your stepdad and you sighed in relief.  
  


"Are you really leaving?" He asked.  
  


You averted your gaze as you nodded. "There's no point in me staying here. Either she ends up killing me or I end up killing myself at some point."  
  


"Y/n!" He said, reprimanding you. "Don't say that. Your life is precious."  
  


"I'm still leaving."  
  


You felt his hand around your wrist and pulled you to the hallway before you noticed him taking something. It was an envelope and he handed it to you.  
  


"What's this?" You asked, taking a look of what's inside when your eyes widen. "Uncle, this is... No, I can't take this."  
  


"It's fine," he said, pushing the envelope back. "This is the least thing I can do for you."  
  


"But this is your saving. I can't accept all this money."  
  


"It's not much anyways. Just take it so you can start a new life. I'm sorry, Y/n-chan, for everything your mother has done to you." He started patting your head lightly, like a father would to his child. "Just know that she isn't really stable right now. When she does became stable, I'll let you know right away and you'll come back, okay?"  
  


You didn't answer. Instead you embrace him, tightly, as if it was the last. Because it might really be the last and you're never going back.  
  


"Go to Kansai Region," he said. "In Hyogo Prefecture. My great aunt owned a small house in Inari Town. You can have that house now. Be safe, Y/n."  
  


Hundreds of miles away from Tokyo. In one of Japan's islands, in Kansai Region. Located somewhere in Hyogo Prefecture, a small town called Inari where you would start your new life. What awaits you, perhaps, is something even worse.  
  


It's like running away from a devil only to run into another one. But it's worse. And you have not the slightest idea just yet, what's in store for you in this small town.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

You are not familiar with the town. But at least you have somewhere that you can go. It was the middle of the night when you left the apartment in the outskirt ward of Tokyo. You didn’t bother waiting until the first crack of dawn as you headed to Tokyo Station and bought a bus ticket.

You decided to take the night bus to Osaka where you would take another bus to Kobe. It was cold during the night, fortunately you were still wearing your jacket that you wore at school as you rubbed your hands together and waited for the bus. It arrived not long after and you were the first few ones to board the bus as you made your way to the far corner.

You sat near the window, leaning on the headrest. You noticed a middle aged woman sat next to you, at least she looks like she isn’t going to harm you so you let your guard down and closed your eyes that had gone tired. You felt the bus moved and it lulled you to slumber, momentarily forgetting all the physical pain your whole body is feeling.

It was around seven in the morning when the bus finally arrived at Osaka Station. You stepped outside and you immediately felt your stomach growled.

“The last thing I ate was uncle’s soba,” you muttered, rubbing your stomach as you headed to a convenience store.

The woman by the cashier greeted you with a smile, probably because you were the first customer of the day. You would be happy to return her smile, but somehow you couldn’t make out a smile. Just a small upturn of your lips, or at least what you felt was a small upturn. For all you know you might look like your lips were pressed in thin line.

You headed to the aisle where the onigiris and meatbuns are located. You took a few onigiri and meatbuns as you headed to where the drinks and beverages are and took a bottle of water.

“Will that be all?” the woman asked with a smile.

This time you managed to return her smile. “Yes, thank you.”

You were in the middle of eating the second onigiri when the bus came and you quickly finished your food and chug the water before jogging towards the bus. Again, you headed to the far corner and sat there.

You looked out the curtain, you are at least five hours away from Tokyo, from your mother. Somehow the thought did not bother you as much, if anything it actually made you sigh in relief. You are finally free from there. Even if it meant you needed to live on your own now, something like this is bound to happen sooner or later anyways, so you just went and made it sooner than later. For all you know, you might actually did your mom a favour by getting your merry way out of her life like she always wanted.

You looked down on your phone. “The morning lectures are probably starting now.”

You briefly forgot about the University. But it’s not like that much was important to you now. What’s important was that you managed to get far away from that place.

After another hour, you sat there by the bus. You weren’t able to fall asleep anymore as the sunlight seep through the curtain. After a while, you felt the bus halted and you looked out the window to see that you have arrived at Kobe-Sannomiya Station.

“Finally, I’m in Hyogo,” you said as long as your feet hit the ground.

Carrying your belongings, you walked towards a bench by the station and sat there, just to recollect your thoughts.

“Let’s see,” you took out a small notebook that you used for jotting down notes yesterday and flipped the pages until you stopped. “Uncle said it’s called Inari Town.”

You knew your mother used to live in Hyogo as well, that’s why she still has that Kansai dialect, but you didn’t know your stepdad was also from the same region. They met in Tokyo, as far as you know. But the town, you were never familiar with it.

You closed the notebook and put it back inside the bag before you took the meatbuns and finished eating them. Once your stomach is full, you stood up and started to walk.

You waited near the road until a taxi pulled in front.

“Hello, mister. Do you happen to know where Inari Town is?”

“Yes,” he said. “Are you headed there?”

You nodded as the taxi driver gestured for you to get inside.

The first few minutes of the car ride is engulfed in silence as you look out. In comparison to the usual tall buildings and busy street, neon lights and noisy alleyways that you grew up in, you can see an empty freeway and farmlands surrounding the place. You sighed inaudibly as you leaned towards the window, just watching the trees passing by once in a while.

“Yer headin’ to Inari, eh?” the driver asked, looking briefly at the rear-view mirror. “Have ya heard about the recent news though?”

“I’m sorry, I’m from Tokyo so I haven’t seen the local news channel from here.”

“Is that so?” the driver asked, but it sounded like he isn’t going to say anything else as he looked ahead and continued to drive.

For a minute it was only silence, until you couldn’t help but speak.

“What about the recent news, mister?”

You really couldn’t help it, not when he already started the topic only to stop halfway and now you are really curious as to what could it possibly be.

He didn’t answer for a while, he looks as though he was debating to say it.

But when he looked back at you and saw your persistence, he sighed. “There are rumours spreading about a murderer somewhere around that neighbourhood. The news also talked about the recent disappearance of some people. Can’t really blame them, Inari Town is as good as deserted.”

But he said rumours, although news like those aren’t new at all. You leaned on the seat and looked out the window.

“Do be careful though,” he added, a tone that reminded you of your stepdad and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks, mister.”

After an hour the taxi stopped and the driver told you that you have arrived at Inari Town.

He was not joking when he said the town is as good as deserted. The neighbourhood is quiet, although it is already almost noon. You are used to the constant noise around the alleyways at the outskirt of Tokyo so you were kind of creep out now that you are here.

“Don’t let this bother you, Y/n,” you reminded yourself as you look on the note in your notebook.

Your stepdad wrote the address of the house but you don’t really know where it is located, so you just walk aimlessly, looking around once in a while, familiarising yourself with the silent neighbourhood. Until you noticed an old woman sitting by the porch of her house so you made your way towards her.

“Excuse me?” you asked politely, inclining your head. “May I ask a question?”

“Yes, dear. What is it?” she asked, she was about to stand up but you shook your head and walked closer instead. You took the note and showed it to her as she took her glasses and squinted.

“Ah, that address,” she muttered before she leaned out. “It’s just the house with the red gate right there.”

You looked at where the woman is pointing at, just across the street.

“Thank you so much!”

You gave her a smile as you proceeded to where she pointed. Once you saw the red gate, you looked on your note and on the address written on the gate. It was the exact same address. You closed the notebook and put it back inside the bag before taking the key that your stepdad lent you. The key matched the door as you opened the front door.

What greeted you was the dimly lit hallway, cold and empty. But at least there will be no one who will hurt you here and beat you up for no reason. You took your shoes off and proceeded down the hallway. The walls were mostly made of woods as well as the floor as it creaks every time you take a step. There is a staircase leading to the second floor, a living room and balcony and a kitchen. The inside is more spacious than you imagined.

There are also some furniture around, the couches look new, there is an old television. But it wasn’t the old black and white ones, just not the newest model. There is also a lampshade by the side, a coffee table and some paintings on the wall.

“The house is still kept in good condition,” you said as you nodded your head while looking around, you brushed your fingers on the shelf and looked at it. “Or not…”

Of course you also expect the house to be dusty, at least there weren’t any cobwebs or roaches and the house doesn’t smell like moss.

After the short tour around the kitchen and living room, you proceeded upstairs. You found three bedrooms. For an average house, this is quite huge. You decided to take the bedroom nearest to the staircase as you put your belongings on the bed. You saw the window and draw the curtain up as you looked outside. “Hm? I can see the road from here.”

You left the window open so fresh air would get inside before you went downstairs and ready yourself to clean every nook and cranny. Dusting the shelf, the coffee table, mopping the floor and walls, you were glad the kitchen was clean and there is an empty fridge that you knew needs to get filled. That actually took you a few hours and all your energy to clean everything as you fell on the couch.

“Ah, I’m starving,” you muttered. You looked at your phone and squinted when the screen lit up. It’s almost three in the afternoon now. “Alright, just a short nap, Y/n.”

That short nap turned into two hours as you stirred in your sleep, rolling around, you forgot that you are sleeping on the couch and you fell on your bum that actually woke you up as you sat up and looked around.

The afternoon sun seeped through the window and you looked at your phone to see that’s it’s already five in the afternoon and you are still starving.

“What should I eat?” you were about to open the fridge when you remembered that it was empty the first time you checked.

After changing into another jacket and taking some money, just enough for a convenience store dinner, you headed outside and searched for the nearest convenience store that you found after walking for around fifteen minutes.

You entered the store, it feels empty compared to the stores back in Tokyo. But you thought it’s also better this way. As you browse through the aisle of instant noodles, you remembered what your granddad used to tell you. That when moving to another house, you should always prepare Hikkoshi soba or house-moving soba and gift them to your neighbours, it has always been an old Japanese custom that you remember your mother did before when you used to move to different apartments in Tokyo. But that was long ago and you were still young back then.

“And she’s still stable,” you muttered. You took the instant soba noodles and turned around to leave the aisle.

But then you bumped into someone and the cup noodles fell on the floor. You were about to bend and get it but someone already did.

You saw a hand took the noodles as the person straightened up.

That was when you saw the person is actually a guy. And he is quite taller than you, at least a head taller. His hair styled in a two block haircut that showed his original brown hair colour under the dyed dirty blonde. His eyes seem hooded and droopy or maybe it’s just the way he looks at you with a slight upturn of his lips playing on his handsome face.

“You dropped this,” he said, but it took you at least a little later to say anything as you stare at him.

**Author's Note:**

> This book is also published on wattpad. You can visit my [wattpad profile](https://www.wattpad.com/user/ASTRAGAZER-) to get updated on new Haikyuu fanfics since I'm more active there than here. Other than that, thanks for reading!


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